


Small Victories

by DressedUpLikeDreams



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Banter, Competition, F/M, Massage, Power Dynamics, Unresolved Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-23
Updated: 2014-09-23
Packaged: 2018-02-17 20:47:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2322665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DressedUpLikeDreams/pseuds/DressedUpLikeDreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What kind of person flirted while talking about some of the world's worse criminals? What kind of person found herself flirting back?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Small Victories

Liz was starting to wonder if agreeing to work with Red again had been such a good idea.

Of course there was the way he seemed to kill without thought or remorse (although, when she wasn’t thinking too hard, she had to admire how quickly he could turn what seems a hopeless situation back in their favor). He was a criminal, and on his worse days perhaps even a monster. And, even after all that they’d been through, all the times he saved her, she didn’t trust him at all.

But the worst part was that she didn’t trust herself around him. 

Usually their meetings were just a chance for Red to show off how clever he was and were something to simply be suffered though. But every time Liz met with Red things got a little more interesting. Oh, it started out innocently enough. Red would smile brightly at her or say that she looked particularly nice that day. It was the kind of thing she’d managed to catch the ever-professional Dembe rolling his eyes at, and Liz took it as nothing more than him trying to get back into her good graces. Then it progressed to flirting. What kind of person flirted while talking about some of the world's worse criminals? What kind of person found herself flirting back?

She wasn’t sure how she felt about this entire situation. Red’s active contributions and participation made him such a change from her past colleagues in the Mobile Psych Unit, who were never particularly eager to work with "the bitch". Red actually made an effort, even if it sometimes took a little prodding. It was certainly refreshing. Then again, Liz was used to running things pretty much on her own, in her own way. Now, not only did she still have Cooper to contend with, she also felt a certain obligation to tell the more than willing Red what was going on. Having more people involved in these high-risk cases couldn’t be a bad thing at this point.

This was also a lot more… fun than she remembered. True, it was still difficult and often grueling, but she was laughing more, and it was primarily Red’s fault. She had this vague notion that this couldn’t be healthy, enjoying the company of a man like Raymond Reddington. She came to dread and welcome these meetings with him, because even if she was having a bit of fun, she was letting her guard down in the presence of this most untrustworthy man.

Like today, for example. They were supposed to be discussing a hacker — not at all funny — and yet Liz knew she would break out into laughter at least once before the end of their conversation. Entirely inappropriate. 

It was a late meeting, at her house for once, and Dembe had already been sent home, leaving the two alone at Liz’s desk. She made sure they got right down to it so that she could eventually get some rest herself before the next day had to begin.

“Do you have any clue where this guy is going to strike next? Aram says there isn’t any discernible pattern to the information we know he’s accessed thus far, the evidence leads nowhere. I mean, we don’t even know this guy’s name.”

“I’ll reach out, but there’s a reason that even I don’t know this man’s name,” he said, blinking rapidly, probably trying to stay awake and moisten his eyes.

She rolled her head around. “Well, what if— oh!” She brought her hand up to her neck, rubbing the sore spot. “Sorry, it’s been giving me trouble lately.”

“Let me help.” Before she could protest he was around the desk and behind her, massaging her shoulders not at all where her neck hurt but…

“Oh, god. That feels so much better. How did you do that?” she asked, glancing back. He just smiled and continued with the massage, first taking a quick moment to tuck her hair under her collar and out of the way.

“Red…” she began, but was cut off when he hit a very tense spot. She bit her lip instead. She had forgotten how sore she was, or how good releasing tension in her back could feel. Or how dangerous letting a man do it could be.

He used his whole body, not just his hands. His entire weight was behind every knead and push, making this a full-body endeavor on his part. Wrists and forearms merely controlled every motion. He pushed her forward a little to reach her lower back. She was somewhat bent forward over her desk and was in perilous danger of her glasses slipping off her nose, but none of this seemed to register. All that mattered was the exquisite feel of his fingers prodding at her back.

Suddenly the massage stopped, and she knew she was incredibly relaxed when she didn’t even protest. She also didn’t stop him when he pulled her hair back out of her shirt, let his fingers run through it for a few seconds, then swept it over her left shoulder. Or when he began running his fingers along her spine and blowing on the skin at the nape of her neck.

“Lizzie.” He said it so softly she didn’t know if she really heard it, but his breath was hot on her neck. She wouldn’t let her body take over. He might be attractive and apparently willing, but that was no reason to let him control her. She could be relaxed and in charge at the same time. 

“Lower,” she ordered, her voice not betraying the slightest hint of the effect his hands were having on her.

“Why? I like it here,” he murmured, tracing patterns on her neck. She wished she could stop shivering, because he could certainly see that. 

“I am giving you an order as a FBI agent. Lower, Mr. Reddington.” She heard a chuckle, then felt his compliance. Right there, just at the bottom of the ribs… yes, that was where her knots were. She felt herself melt once more. She was tempted, in this moment of weakness, to say so many things. _We shouldn’t do this, Red. This is incredible, Red. Let’s go a little further, Red._ But no matter what, she wouldn’t say anything. Her words would not betray her now.

“Any other orders, Agent Keen?” She could hear the smirk in his voice as he spoke in a low half-whisper. Well, she couldn’t let him get away with that.

“As a matter of fact, Red, if you wouldn’t mind…” She stood up quickly and turned around. Red’s eyes caught hers and she thought she saw something that almost made her stop, but when she double-checked it was gone. She shook it off. “Please have a seat,” she said sweetly, offering hers. There was a slight surprise, or maybe apprehension, in his eyes, but his demeanor didn’t change and he complied with her request. It was all she could do not to rub her hands together in glee. 

“Men always seem so willing to give a massage,” she started, placing her hands on his shoulders. “But there’s always an agenda.” She began rubbing her fingers over him and felt his back tense in response. “Don’t think I’m not on to you, Raymond Reddington,” she whispered in his ear. His shoulders shifted uncomfortably. She pressed her thumbs sharply against a knot and his back arched away. “See, Red, I really don’t think you want to play me, because I know a thing or two about returning the favor.” She twisted both thumbs outwards and he gave a sharp, short cry, followed by a moan as she moved her thumbs down the small of his back. It seemed she’d already won, succeeding in making him scream when he hadn’t been able to do the same to her. She felt a twinge of disappointment that he’d given in so easily, as she had looked forward to more of a game. Instead she gave one last dig, feeling him shudder, and withdrew. 

“Now give me my seat back.” He spun around quickly and caught her wrists in his hands.

“In a minute.” He tugged and she fell on to him. Her lips were immediately caught by his. _Oh,_ she thought as his soft, warm mouth melted into hers. _He’s good._

He withdrew again and her eyes wouldn’t open for an entire second. Just _wouldn’t._ When they finally did she began mentally kicking herself because that smug grin of his had returned. 

“Why, Lizzie, how clumsy of you.” Fuck, why did she suddenly feel like a teenage tricked into something risque? Liz glared at him, as if the mere fiery force of her gaze would crisp him in front of her, and picked herself up. 

“Out,” she ordered, steel in her voice. She didn’t have to point for him to know that she meant for him to leave not just the chair, but also the room. At the door he paused, glancing back.

“I guess the hacker can wait until another day.” He disappeared and she looked down at the open file on the desk. _Damn!_ He certainly won that battle. 

But Liz had won a few of her own, too. She had beaten him in her own little silence contest. _And I didn’t giggle,_ she thought, a smug grin not unlike Red’s spreading across her face.


End file.
